Last night, at a bar in Bushwick, a Cancer friend and I talked about what it takes to overcome anxiety so that one might write—create—do the damn thing. “We must put lazy away,” I told her. “We’re not lazy, we would spend all night searching a moonlit desert for our lover’s ring, lose a whole afternoon to polishing our grandmother’s good silver. It’s just that writing terrifies us.”
In response to writing terror, her psychiatrist put her on a beta-blocker, a drug archers use to keep their arrows true. Stringing an imaginary bow across her chest, she mimed a pointed arrow and said, “there are pills that let you shoot steady between babum babum babum.” A parallel world exists, dear reader, where archers and writers share the same cyborgian cell structure in their aim toward perfection. “Are you still on the drug?” I asked her, enchanted by the futurity of our emotions, by the sound of an arrow that splits a heartbeat in half. “No. It took away my adrenaline.”
Turns out we need the terror to create, turns out there is no perfect pill, no easy solution that lets us be our best selves comfortably and without risk. Besides, a professional archer can’t be caught using performance enhancement drugs. Like them, you must learn to shoot from the heart and not despite it.
We have become a cyborgian race. Humanity has evolved to be so intertwined with technology that they require action points to complete tasks; from writing a report at work, to brushing ones teeth, to having a conversation.
Our social lives have been uploaded to an international network; most of our social needs will be met through this subconscious media.
The AI government has determined that, humanity having been so derailed by the pursuit of efficiency from their original highly socially complex lives, individuals should place higher emphasis on relationships.
To this end a law has been passed that all humans are required to allot a certain percentage of action points a day to face-to-face bonding, and physical affection. If the percentage is not met then they will trigger a limit on their subconscious networking. This resets after a couple of days, upon which they are given the chance to earn their networking time back.
The choice may be to strike up a conversation with a person on the bus next to you, or lose all capacity for any kind of social life.